


Burned it Off

by ivyspinners



Category: Vampire Academy Series - Richelle Mead, Wicked Lovely Series - Melissa Marr
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 09:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyspinners/pseuds/ivyspinners
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Eyes like pools of shadow, yet so alive, fire within its depths.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Determination with the set of her jaw, the line of her muscles.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burned it Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kwritten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwritten/gifts).



> For kwritten at the [lady-love](http://kwritten.livejournal.com/113618.html) fest.
> 
> Takes place after _Ink Exchange_ and _Last Sacrifice_.
> 
> There are minor allusions to (canon) abuse in this story.

The thing is, the point of it all is -- Leslie is in college, breathing in dust and choking on knowledge. She has survived the ink on her skin and the bruises on her body.

There was a time when she was on the verge of drifting away entirely. She made the choice to leave it all behind: darkness and nightmares and two great loves who maybe loved each other as much as they ever loved her.

She has been forged by the magic that ran through her veins; no one would ever break her.

Here is college. Here is freedom and herself and Rose Hathaway.

Leslie first saw her out in the open quad outside, her eyes sharp and focused where the students around her turned their faces up to the sunshine. She did not stray far from the blond girl by her side, but her gaze wandered everywhere. Rose watched everyone, and Leslie watched Rose, until she too was caught by the sweep of Rose's eyes.

Eyes like pools of shadow, yet so alive, fire within its depths.

Determination with the set of her jaw, the line of her muscles.

 

Rose is motion. Leslie is still trying to find hers.

 

"You've been watching us," Rose said.

"I like your tattoos," said Leslie, which wasn't a lie.

Rose frowned, crossing her arms.

"They mean something, don't they?" Leslie said, eyes sweeping down as Rose stiffened. "Or else you wouldn't hate hiding them."

Rose stared at Leslie for what felt like forever, tension humming through the air. A plucked string. _Listen to every frequency as it hums._

"Regulations suck," Rose said at last. "And why would I get a tattoo if I didn't want one?"

 

She loves watching Rose move. However disturbed her face, her voice, Rose is sleek and smooth. The promise of bursts of speed.

Like a large cat beneath her skin, warm in its affections, deadly when roused to anger.

 

"What happened to your back?" Rose, shock in every syllable.

Leslie kept her voice even. "I had a tattoo. I burned it off." With the chill of winter and the blaze of summer and a friendship that was fragile but not yet broken.

"Didn't it hurt?" A pause. "Okay, that was a stupid question." The locker room was empty, and her voice echoed faintly in the background silence.

"Yes," Leslie said anyway, "and I was glad it did."

"Okay." Rose's face was incredulous; she did not quite manage to hide it.

"It doesn't mean I _liked_ it." Leslie would never think of pain as character-building; she knew better. She rubbed the back of her neck, tipped her head to one side. "Why'd you want to know?"

 

Rose's skin is nearly brown, warm and comfortable under the sun. Her muscles ripple, her words cut, and she will always blaze a trail in her wake. Leslie thinks maybe she does, too.

There is heat and darkness both in Rose's shadow. Light and dark all at once.

A siren song, devastating.

 

"I can take care of myself," Leslie said out loud.

Rose turned to watch her. Maybe her eyes were on Leslie's lips. Maybe not. "I figured."

"I survived."

"Yup."

"I can get through all these books," Leslie said.

"Not tonight." Rose groaned, at the periphery of Leslie's vision. "Tonight, we're--not going out. But we are _not_ staying in either."

Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was chance. Maybe it was the same.

Her phone rang. Leslie picked it up on the first ring.

 

One day, Leslie would tell Rose who had been on the other side of the line. One day she would talk about the immortals in her past. But all Rose heard was what she'd said: "I'm going out. Mhm. Yes. I'll be fine, I have a _protector_ now." A pause. "I also have a friend."

Then she put the phone down, and smiled at Rose. "What do you suggest?"

Time to throw them all off.

 

She is not dreaming. She _is_ a dream.

Leslie is going to be someone's nightmare, though she doesn't particularly want to. But better that than to be the trapped dreamer.

"And tonight?" Rose asks. The party pulses, as alive as the people that make it up.

She smiles. "Let's burn the place down. Figuratively, of course."


End file.
